


Pain of Betrayal

by Treon



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treon/pseuds/Treon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate ending to 3x08.  Neal and Peter both end up in a world of hurt</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pain of Betrayal

As the elevator raced towards the 21st floor of the FBI building, Neal leaned back against the wooden paneling and closed his eyes. He'd barely slept, tossing and turning throughout the night.  He'd betrayed Peter, he'd betrayed Mozzie, and now he was supposed to show up for work as if nothing happened.  
  
How did Moz phrase it?  Breaking and entering was the easy part.  Smiling into the victims' faces?  That work was plenty dirty.  But he was going to do it, because what other choice did he have?  He couldn't tell Peter the truth now.  That ship had sailed a long time ago.  He just had to soldier on and hope for the best.  
  
The doors slid open and Neal adjusted the smile on his face.  This was just a regular day.  He was going to show up for work as regularly as he did every other day, do all the regular things he usually did, and bury the thoughts that threatened to ruin it all.  He could deal with a couple more sleepless nights.  
  
His plans for a regular day didn't last long, however.  Peter had apparently been waiting for him, because the moment Neal pushed through the office doors, the FBI agent stepped out of his office.  "Neal! Get up here!"  
  
Neal glanced around, hoping to get some sign of what was to come, but all the FBI grunts around were suddenly very busy with their paperwork. Nobody dared make eye contact.  The only one who did, Diana, stared at him impassively.  Not a good sign.   
  
Peter was pacing his small office when Neal entered.  He came to a stop behind his desk and shot the con man a murderous look.  "I checked your anklet this morning."  
  
Damn.  "You saw I stopped by your house yesterday."  Neal's mind raced through the options of stories he could tell Peter.  There weren't many.  He could say Elizabeth asked him to stop by, but chances were Peter had already checked with his wife, and if not, she was just a phone call away.  The Burke's anniversary was coming up, maybe he could claim he'd been trying to prepare a surprise.  Or that he'd thought of having a heart-to-heart with Peter, but changed his mind.  Could Peter really tell whether he'd entered the house or not?  
  
Peter could see the wheels turning in Neal's head, and he knew exactly what the other man was trying to do: buy time.  
  
"You've got five seconds to tell me why you were in my house, and I swear to God, if you lie to me now, I'll personally make sure you never see blue sky again."  
  
Peter knew. He could see it on his face.  Neal hoped a bit of truth might allay Peter's anger, but he knew the chances of that were very, very small.  "I was looking for the sub manifest."  
  
Peter let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.  There it was.  Neal had broken into his house.  Had smiled at him and joked around about wanting to get out of the van, all the while plotting to break into his home.  Violate his privacy.  This was the man Peter had considered a friend.  It took every ounce of mental energy Peter possessed to keep himself from breaking down in front of the younger man.  Right now, he had to treat Neal like every other suspect under questioning.      
  
He finally found the voice to ask the next question.  "Did you find it?"  
  
Neal nodded silently.  He was afraid to say anything.  As it was, Peter was standing there, one hand on his hip, looking as if he'd just received a punch straight to the gut.  
  
Neal had searched his house. Had been in his bedroom, touching, looking, going through his stuff.  Peter could see Neal stalking through the empty house.  Climbing up the stairs.  A thief.  "God.  I let you into my home, Neal.  Invited you to dinner."  
  
Neal shifted his weight from one foot to another.  "Does Elizabeth know?"  He couldn't bear the thought of Elizabeth thinking he'd conned her, even if that was the truth.  
  
The question caught Peter unawares.  Did Neal really care or what he just trying to keep the conversation on personal grounds?  Trying to get Peter to empathize, to forget this was an interrogation.  Peter had no intention of going along with that.  "What did you do with the manifest?"  
  
"I took a picture of it."  Neal patted his jacket pocket, indicating his phone.  "I left it in the safe."     
  
"Give me your phone."  Peter opened a drawer and produced an evidence bag, holding it open in front of Neal.  
  
After a moment's hesitation, Neal removed his phone from his pocket and dropped it into the bag.  "Are you going to charge me?"  
  
Once again, Peter ignored Neal's question.  "You have the treasure."  
  
Peter hadn't even bothered to phrase it as a question.  "I didn't steal it.  Peter, I-"  
  
"Don't-  Just don't."  Peter raised a hand to ward Neal's protestations of innocence.  "You're going to show me where it is."    
  
Neal licked his dry lips.  "Yes."  As if he had a choice.  
  
Peter grabbed a legal pad off his desk and slapped it down in front of Neal. "Sit down.  You're going to write it all down.  The art, the sub, yesterday.  Everything."  
  
Neal glanced at the pad, then back at the FBI agent.  "Peter, I know you don't believe me right now, but I didn't want to lie to you."  
  
Peter shook his head.  "You're right.  I don't."  
  
  
Standing in the coffee corner a few minutes later, Peter couldn't take his eyes off Neal, sitting in Peter's office, scribbling away.  Every once in a while he would pause, chew on the end of the pen as he thought how to phrase the next sentence.  Peter still had to decide what he was going to do with Neal's confession.  
  
Diana walked over, stopping by the machine to refill her mug before she stopped by Peter.  "Caffrey stole the treasure, didn't he?"  There wasn't much else it could be.  
  
"Yes.  He did."  Despite the fact that he had suspected - was almost positively certain - that Neal really did, it was only now really starting to sink in.  "He did."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Diana took a sip of her coffee.  "What are you going to do?"  
  
"For now?  I called the marshalls to take him into custody."  He couldn't just let Neal walk out after this, but he didn't want to send him to prison either.  There was no going back if he took that route.  
  
"And then?"  
  
"I don't know.  If I press charges for everything he's done.. I don't know."  Neal could go to jail for a long, long time, and Peter would probably see his career derailed.  But that was nothing compared to the crushing sense of utter defeat he was now feeling.  "I just can't figure out what he'd been thinking."  
  
Diana smirked into her mug, then glanced at Peter.  "You're assuming he *was* thinking."  
  
"You never know with Neal, eh?"  Truth be told, Peter wasn't sure what *he* had been thinking.  Going along with Neal's ideas, getting himself into this huge mess.  Diana might be too polite to bring it up, but he himself hadn't been thinking either.  He'd been warned, but he had thought he knew better, that he could find a way to reach the younger man, to turn Neal around.  That all Neal was missing in life was a good example and a firm guiding hand.  
  
It was a mistake he had no idea how to fix. 


End file.
